Broken
by lynn11
Summary: Chapter 14 Getting closer to what really happened.........Find out here! Please be kind and Read and Review!
1. Guilt

*Now I know I have another story going on, but I thought of this storyline and had to write it!!! Please review and don't worry, I'll still be adding more chapters to Solitary Confinement(R/R!!!!) Hope you like it!!! Just to let you know, kinda dark, trust me, it will get cheerful!!!!!

Chapter 1- Guilt

            I pull my weary body out of the warmth of my bed. Not wanting to leave its comfort. Tossing the covers to the side, regretfully, I stand up, exhausted. Hopefully, today will be a good day. Why shouldn't it be, I mean, it's just another day in the life of a super spy. I sigh a heavy sigh of disbelief and walk lazily to the kitchen, heeding my growling stomach. While I pour my cereal into a grey bowl, I run through today's agenda in my mind. Go to work; that should be fun, go over to Francie's restaurant and take up time, and then come home and pack my bags for tomorrow's mission. Nothing else, but something else I had to do stuck clearly in my mind. I couldn't though, I can't keep living like this, in the past. I will not be taking a trip there tonight. Not today, remember, today will be a good day. Forget about it. I pour the milk over my cereal, noticing the smoothness of the milk and the way it flows throughout the cereal as if searching for someone it can't find. Without even realizing it, tears fall from my misty eyes and mix with the milk.

            Come on Sydney, you just said that today would be a good day. Just try, try. I force myself to try to make it a good day and not think about what happened last year, so long ago. Putting the jug of milk back into its place in the refrigerator, I notice a note I had left myself on the door of the fridge 

:Remember, you have a date with him tonight at 8!!

It was circled in bright red pen at least ten times, making it hard not to notice it. I hadn't noticed it when I first opened the refrigerator. Suddenly, I felt a pang of guilt in the pit of my stomach. How could I forget him like that? We had planned on going out tonight since last week. I stood there, with a bowl of cereal getting soggy in one hand and a note that I wish I hadn't written in the other. I realized that I never wanted to go out with him. I barely knew him. Placing my bowl, full of unused cereal near the sink suddenly becoming aware that I am no longer hungry. 

            As I walk back to my room to change into a boring suit that I wear everyday to a nonexistent job at a bank that I can't stand, I become light headed and shrink down to the ground, to the size of a meaningless ant. Tears are spilling out, covering the wooden floor with a thin film of dampness. I abruptly stop, recalling that Francie was still asleep. I can't breathe, I can't tear myself away form the images embedded into my mind. I quickly erase the thoughts momentarily from my mind and begin to get back to normal life, at least normal for me. I draw myself up to stand and force myself to walk into my room to get ready. Forcing myself, to remember my date with him, a guy I have to force myself to love. I walk over to the mirror framed in gentle oak surrounded by many vases of flowers of every kind to remind me to cheer up, to not think about what I shouldn't. A few have bloomed and are beautiful, but most of them, dead and wilted, forgotten. I stare at my reflection, convincing myself that today I will go out with him and make myself have a good time, no matter what I think and feel about him. I will not think about what I can't change and why.   

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I glanced at the clock on my bed stand, 7:50. Eight o'clock came too soon. Sitting on my bed, I stare at the bright neon green numbers blaring the time as if yelling something at me. I twiddle the strings of my black velvet purse, wishing I would have listened to my instincts this morning. I should have gone to the cemetery this morning, but I just drove by and kept on driving. I noticed that the beautiful yellow petals, on the sunflowers I left, gleam a brilliant gold when the sun hits them in the perfect angle. I regret not going, feeling like I had been disloyal and rude. 

            My thoughts of regrets and guilt were interrupted by the distant sound of the doorbell ringing. It was him. I let the doorbell ring again, debating on whether I should just stay in my room full of solitude convincing him I wasn't home. Francie was at the restaurant, so she wouldn't know I skipped out on my date. But then I would feel more guilt and more pain, because that would mean more hollow meaningless secrets and lies tearing away at our friendship. I drug my unconvinced self to the door and opened it. There he stood, supposedly the man of my dreams, but he was not. He could never be that, not compared to my past love of my life.

 "Hello, Sydney. How are you?"

 "Fine." I faked a forced smile and shut the door behind me.

As we walked to his car, he asked me questions about my day and how I've been doing since we last met. I answered him in concise, cold answers. He opened the door for me and trying to help me in his car, and trying to be a gentleman. He looked into my eyes with such love and care, but I felt nothing. He was no Vaughn. No one will ever be like Vaughn. Without saying goodbye or I'm sorry, I run from the car tripping on my heels, tears splashing onto the ground, leaving a confused and hurt guy behind. 

             I didn't look back, I didn't care. My gaze concentrating on a place far from where I stand on in darkness of a cold night. Running past houses full of happy content families without any sorrow or hurt, past buildings without secrets, and past people without voids and holes in their hearts, I don't see anything but where I'm supposed to be. I falter several times, not even caring, from running to fast and not watching the world that goes on without me. It took twenty minutes, seemed only like seconds, to get to where I needed to be. I managed to climb over the steel wrought iron gate, the blockade between my true love and me. Stumbling down the path, unsure of what I'm doing. Shaking from head to toe and crying uncontrollably, I bend down to his home, still a cruel and harsh reality for me to accept even after a whole year. I crumble and scream his name over and over again. Grabbing and hugging the piece of stone proclaiming who he was. My heart fills with such ache and pain. 

 "Vaughn?" I stare up at the sky, waiting for him to listen to me, "Hi, I'm sorry I didn't see you this morning. The counselors told me I needed to distance myself and start living again, but I can't." The tears are forming their own sea at the bottom of my skirt. Second by second, the sea grows and forms rivers extending off of it, displaying my hurt and my terrible control of emotions.

 "I, I'm sorry, that I killed you, I didn't mean too. I wish that you didn't love me so much. I wish that you didn't want to save me that you would have let me go, instead of you. I' m sorry. I'M SORRY!!!!!" I kept screaming and sobbing. "Vaughn, I love you. I love you." A sudden snap of twigs in the distance, makes me wonder if someone is watching me. I must look like a fool. I quickly transform back into controllable and normal Sydney.

            Letting go of my only contact with him, I find my sanity, wipe away the tears frozen on my face, and unsteadily walk back home. Cold, alone, and troubled, I begin to cry again, missing him even more. I stare at the wilting sunflowers, which I picked back up, in my hand and analyze the yellow petals, giving me an excuse to come back tomorrow. He needs flowers, to know that someone still loves him.


	2. Good Day

Chapter 2- Good Day

            After walking around the streets of L.A. finding my way home, I stop in front of my house, staring at it. It looked so peaceful and homely, I wish it felt like that when I was in it, but it wasn't. Every step I take in there reminds me of him, he was never in there but I feel as if he should have been. The tears are still streaming down on my soft skin, creating patterns as they glide over my chin. Bruised and hurt, I slowly open the front door, afraid to face the truth of what I've done. Leaves drape over my dress, torn pieces of fabric dangle near my weak ankles. As soon as I close the heavy door behind me, I see Francie standing at the kitchen bar, worried and relieved. I just cry, not being able to find the words to say. What can I say? She doesn't know about him, she would be killed if she knew, like he was. All the hurt and sorrow pulsating through my veins making me too weak to stand, I grab onto the edge of the bar, setting down my grass-stained purse, but maintaining my grips on the now crushed sunflowers.

 "Syndey, are you okay?" she paused, waiting for me to answer, but I couldn't find any words that could explain myself. "Sydney, what is wrong, what happened?"

            I just stared at her, the hole in my heart growing with every breath I take. I can't stand to tell these lies anymore, that is all that I am, a big lie, a secret that no one will ever know. I want to tell her everything, about Vaughn, how I killed him, how I loved him, how I want to tell her about SD-6 and how I can't bear to live anymore. How every time when I open my eyes in the morning, I wish I was still sleeping or not even …… I turn on the heels of my run-down shoes and head to the refrigerator, still with the note attached reminding me about my date. I pound my head on the door hard, with all my strength trying to make all the lies and secrets come pouring out, but they didn't, it just made everything around me even more blurry. My lifeless body would not allow me to talk or to think. I opened the door and stared at the contents not knowing what I was doing. I had to do something so that I wouldn't hurt her anymore, she didn't deserve this much pain in her life.

 "Syd, don't cry. Come on, what's the matter? Did your date not go well?"

That was putting it politely, I thought cynically to myself. It didn't even happen. I shocked myself and Francie, when I laughed at my own voices dancing through my head. My laugh became deep and sinister scaring Francie. I wanted to go away, far away. I looked out the far transparent window, looking for something to focus on to stop my feelings from taking over. I saw a flash of light and the shadow of a man. I blinked and he had disappeared. I stared at his shadow stuck in my brain, I really was going crazy. I kept laughing and slammed the door to the fridge, jumping at the stark sound it made. I kept laughing, my terrified body shaking from head to toe, still crying.

            I stare down at the sunflowers, thinking of him. I missed him soo much. I could feel him hugging me and squeezed my body in for him to hold onto. Brushing past Francie, not looking her in the eyes, the tears began to fall gracefully from my wild eyes to the dusty floor. 

             I walk into my cell of comfort and peace, sighing as I place down my treasured sunflowers. I wonder what his favorite flower was. I never knew anything of his favorites except for his favorite restaurant. My thoughts are shortly interrupted by the doorbell ringing, Francie will get it, I sluggishly think. Taking my tattered dress off my fragile body, I think of how much he would have loved this dress. He would have taken one look at me and fell more in love with me. This wonderful thought made me smile, then the harshness of it sunk deep down inside me. I sank to my bed, pulling my bathrobe, warm and reassuring, over my weary body. Francie burst into my room, holding a letter in her shaking hand.

 "Um, Syd, this was in front of the door when I opened it, it has your name on the front. The person just left, I didn't see anybody." She laid the note on the table stand and left after a question that had been burning her mind raw. "Sydney, I know something is wrong, I've known for awhile now. Please just tell me. I won't judge you differently if its completely bizarre, but I need to know. You've been acting very strange, not just today, but for a whole year basically. Just tell me, when you feel ready, ok?"

 "Ok," I nod at her, doubting I will ever be ready to explain to her all the darkness and secrets that I have hidden inside me. "Night." She takes the hint of me getting rid her and leaves nodding with fear in her face. I can hear her cry through the door. Why? She doesn't have anything to cry about, she doesn't have to deal with my stresses every day. I silently yell at myself for being so conceited and taken with my pities. I turn my attention to the small envelope with hurried, scribbled handwriting. I opened the envelope and pulled out the card on plain parchment. Hastily written, only two words, it read: Don't Cry.

            A single shiver slivered its way down my back emitting chills all over my body. I glanced out the window, nothing. It was just a reflection of what I saw in me, nothing. I wish I was nothing, but I am. I am only something until SD-6 goes down, then I'm nothing. Then I can be with him and never have to keep secrets and lies and hurt and pain inside my wretched heart.

I walk over to my mirror, placing the note, which only made cry out of fear instead of hurt, on the stand next to it, and reached for my depression pills, which I purposely forgot to take today. Tomorrow I will have a good day. I will not disobey my feelings to see him, but I will have a good day. Good day. Good day. I kept reciting those two words over and over while I got ready fro bed, for soothing relief from the hollow world in which I live. If I say them enough, I convince myself, maybe I will eventually have a good day. Maybe.


	3. Has to Know

Chapter 3- Has to Know

            Walking up towards the bank where I have spent seven years working, under a lie, for a man I can barely stand to be in the same room with, let alone manage to say hi to without feeling the anger bubble up inside me. I hear the clunk of my heels echo in the dark, hollow halls, coming to the elevator that distinguishes between reality and cruelty. I step through the barrier and see the same image of misfortune I see everyday. The people I see, who are proud and courageous, are just being used and betrayed. I hold my head, afraid that I might burst into pitying tears. Thinking of all that is wrong in my life, I remember him. I had been good so far today and hadn't thought of him, yet. But now, here and irritated, I miss him and what he had brought in my life.

            I find my way to my desk, and sit down, mindlessly, staring at the far corner, and thinking of him. The way he talked, the way he moved, the way his lines on his forehead showed whenever he got nervous or worried. The way he put me on a pedestal and smiled at me with his gorgeous grin that sent tiny chills up and down my back. The way he was just him and tried at all costs to make me happy in this unfair and harsh world, no matter what how much it hurt him. No matter what would happen to me. No matter what. I suddenly noticed that tears had begun to fall every so carefully down my distraught face. They made their way over my chin and landed on the desk, ruining papers and notes on missions that I don't really care about anymore. I stare, my vision blurred, at the drops falling onto the paper, splattering, increasing in size, in agony.

 "Sydney, are you okay?" My thoughts of nothing, of no one, are interrupted by Dixon's hand on my shoulder.

 "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, nothing's wrong," I quickly sit up, wildly brushing away the tears and Vaughn, "Thanks, though." I sit here in an uncomfortable silence, knowing he doesn't buy it. I may be an amazing spy and actress, but when it comes to Vaughn, I lose all control, I've found out. 

 "You know you can talk to me, we're supposed to let each other know what is bothering us," trying to coax it out of me, but mostly reassuring. He stares at me, waiting for me to answer but I can't, knowing that more tears will fall if I move any muscle attached to my heart. "Anyway, Sloane wants to talk to you in his office. Don't worry, I think he's just concerned about you, we all are." He pats my shoulder and turns away, confused and worried.

            I, on the other hand, stare at Sloane's office, feet away, scared. Afraid of what he might know. Anytime he calls me in without Dixon, I become frantic and nervous, uneasy. I wipe away the tears reforming in my ears and slowly compose myself back to working form. I walk to his office, my heart pounding, tears still hanging onto my eyelashes. I slide into his office and peek in. He was on the phone, and motioned me in with one cold hand, wanting me to sit down and become comfortable. I will never be able to sit in a room with a man capable to live with himself after the things he has done to me, to Vaughn, and to others that I am not even aware of. The anger burning up inside brings more tears to my misty eyes. I stare at him, talking on the phone unaware of my thoughts running through my head, with such rage. He killed the only men I have ever loved in my life, without the slightest regret. He hung up the phone and realized that I had been crying, almost immediately.

 "What is the matter?" He asks me, as if I am his daughter, the thought of that makes my stomach cringe.

 "Nothing, just a very rough week with all the missions I have been going on," I casually lie, hoping he won't inquire more into the subject, knowing all to well that I might breakdown and tell him everything.

 "I know, I'm sorry for that, but we had to send you," he gets up from his throne-like chair and paces around the room, not looking at me. "Sydney, I need to ask you some questions that are rather intruding and I'm quite sorry." Sure you are, I think to myself, laughing inside at the irony of what was coming out of his mouth. He approached the half-closed door and slammed it shut, making me jump.

 "I know you have not been yourself lately, in fact almost a whole year, and it worries me," Really, how? I think. He continues thinking that his opinions mean the world to me. "Ever since you came back from your mission in Paris, you've been disconnected, zoning out, trance-like everyday. Many people have approached me, worried." He stops to view my emotions plainly displayed on my face, lost in remembering Paris. "Sydney, I know what happened in Paris and you do too, but I think we are on a different page of understanding the truth in what happened. Now, I have been honest with you since then in everything that goes on here, now it is your turn." He walks in front of me, sitting uncomfortably in the leather chair that engulfs my weakening body. Leaning on his desk, he waits for me to answer. No response.

 "Ms. Bristow, I know you may not want to recall that night, if what I suspect is true, but if you don't you know what will become of you," he lowers his head and stares into my eyes with a brash sense to him. Sensing my unwillingness, he continues. "Let me help you, now we sent you to Paris to retrieve an artifact that held code keys to a Rambaldi clock, which you accomplished. That I understand perfectly and I know you do to, but the thing that I am afraid that is troubling you is what happened while you were in the process of retrieving the artifact. Am I right?" Again he paused, waiting for my actions. I remained motionless, stuck in a trance, reliving the night painfully.

 "Not interjecting anything? Ok, now you found the artifact and started to meet Dixon at your fixed point, but called over radio silence. Why?  You ran down the opposite hall of where you should have gone and into a closet that left you baffled, right? Please stop and correct me if I am mixing up the story at any point." I glared at him with such fury, gripping my nails deep into the chair. I could feel the tears balancing on the tip of my eyelids, knowing what he was going to reveal all over to me. Knowing that he was going to ruin my good day, knowing. I closed my eyes, wishing that I don't know what I do. I opened them and still remembered. I tried again, but still no luck; I never have luck with anything.

 "Now, when you got in the closet, you were surprised, correct? I know that you didn't expect to see me there with that man. Tell me, Sydney did he tell you that he was CIA and we weren't or did he just trick you into thinking he was with us? I know you knew him, otherwise you wouldn't have screamed when you saw him like he was, chained to a chair bleeding." I can't handle this anymore, too much to handle. The tears fell, letting him know everything he wanted to know. I am broken. My head falls trying to hide the constant flow of hurt.

 "Sydney, come on now, don't cry." My head snaps up, was he the one following me around all day long and sending me those notes. Couldn't be, could it? The tears still flowing down my reddened face begin to stain my skin, permanently becoming apart of me.

 "So, after you stormed in on me interrogating him, he saw you and looked away, not wanting you to see him like that. Now I need an answer this time, I know I've asked this before, but I need to know. He told me that he had approached you at your college and offered you information about the CIA. You took it after many offers, and planned on meeting him there in the storeroom, thinking he was working for me? Did you think he was working for me?" He was yelling now, right into my face.

 "Yes, yes! I, I had no idea that that he was against-st us. He didn't tell me that we we were not CIA, and and I I 'm sorry that I, was so gullible for believing him." I blurted out, screaming back at his cold lifeless body, I lied and protected myself. The tears gushing out of my traitor eyes never slowing down, betraying him even while he was dead, cold in the grave. I look up towards, where I know he is watching me and think, I'm sorry Vaughn, you told me to lie. I saw your eyes as Sloane told me what you had said and agreed with him. His eyes still vivid, embedded into the back of my head, looking longingly at me, forcing me to comply, forcing me to kill him. I stay somewhat still, shaking from the hurt and memories drifting out of me, being watched by a man who brought me to this. I killed him, that's all I can think about, I did. 

 "Good, thank you, but one more thing that I must know." My head slightly finds it way up to see him walking back to behind his desk to sit down. "Obviously, that confession has been giving you grief, killing a man that you think you know is always hard." Like you would know that grief, I think to myself. "But I think that there is still something else that is bothering you. Sydney, did you know Mr. Vaughn, personally? Intimately?"

            He stared at me as the last word he spoke rolled off of his tongue and into my ears, tearing away at my heart. I couldn't breath; my throat became tight and clogged. I refastened my grip on the chair, staring into my lap, letting the numerous tears fall gracefully down. I knew Vaughn, knew him well, too well. That was the problem.

            Regaining my head, I jerked my head up. "I don't know why this has any relevance to anything that relates to you?"

"Sydney, it is very relevant to me in that I want to know where your loyalties lie." He began twiddling his pen, but never removing his darkening stare off of me.

 "My loyalties lie with you, no matter how I knew someone, who I didn't know the truth about. I trust you and expect to receive that same trust in return." I couldn't believe what had just escaped from my mouth making words, not making any sense to me. I don't trust you, I will never trust you.

            Sloane just looks at me, trying to break down what I had just said, inspecting it, searching for any flaws that he can accuse me of. He finally lowered his head and stood up. "I'm sorry I brought you so much pain, please forgive me. To let you know, you have my full and complete trust, you're like a daughter to me. You can go home, now, we've got everything under control here." He smiled at me, a smile that sent chills and fury racing through my veins. I want to scream at him, I am not your daughter. I never will be.

 "Thank you," was all I could mutter out through the flood of tears. I got up, shakily and escorted myself out of the room that stole all the senses from my body. 

My body becoming frail and unable to move itself stumbles as I walk pointlessly about the floor of offices. I went back to my desk and grabbed my purse, with a firm grip, and walked out the door, down the elevator, out to the outside world oblivious to the real identity of the bank, to the true feelings hidden deep inside my soul. My heartbeat rapidly increasing, my breath remaining short, I only can think of one place to go to escape. I have to go to him, to let him know that I hate it when I lie, when I betray him. 

I walk through the streets of L A., distraught and lost amid my thoughts of him. Seeing him, chained to the metal chair, alone, hurt, betrayed by me, I can't think. People, shops, cars, go by without me paying any sort of attention to them. I drift lazily through the world to the one place I know I can find comfort, no matter who is watching me. I don't care. Vaughn has to know how much I love him still, how much I didn't want to lie, how much my body aches for his every second of my wretched life, how I don't think I can go on much longer. He has to know everything, no more lies and secrets. I tighten my grip on my purse, my only link to reality, to sanity that I'm barely holding onto, slowly losing my grip, slowly, very slowly.


	4. Telling him the Truth

*Sorry it took me soo long to update!!! Anyway, here it is, Chapter 4!!!!!! I know I said that it would get happy, it does, but not this chapter. But please, trust me, it will!!!!!!!! That will come in future chapters!!!!! Thanks for the reviews, they let me know my stories are being read!!!!!! Now, enjoy!!!

Chapter 4- Telling him the Truth

            Winding down the streets, looking at nothing, noticing nothing, I only think of him. His eyes, dark and full of love, running vividly in my mind, creating a gap hollowing out my heart. Halfway to my destination, I stop suddenly, causing meaningful people to jumble and run into nothing, me. I forgot to bring him anything. How could I do that? I didn't notice the line of busy people staring and cursing at me, I thought of where the nearest flower shop was. I stood there, expressionlessly gazing off into the blurriness of hustling bodies moving about. The closest shop popped into my head and without any thought of the line behind me, I left, hurrying. 

            I got there in two minutes, my heart miles behind me, chasing me. I crept up to the rows and baskets of gorgeous flowers calling me. Bouquets of every flower cascaded over the tops of trolleys and displays, I cried. I don't know why, but the sight of flowers now turned any thought into tears. After an hour of carefully examining each flower, each bouquet double checking its beauty, I decided on a bouquet that truly expressed what I thought of him. 

The petals were soft, not a single drop of death or despair, the color rich and vibrant, unfading. The long stems gracefully trimmed and delicate, yet sturdy. Faint tears dusted the outskirts of the petals, cleaning them of any sorrow. Staring at each flower, my mind drifts back into the past. The past that holds such comfort even though it is laced with fear and unsettlement. I drift happily back to a time I where I wasn't alone, where I had someone to confide in.

Two weeks before the fateful mission that killed us both, I had received the same call that I get everyday reminding me of the cruel life I lead. I arrived at the warehouse and staggered in to see him, standing by the single table that is always there. On the top of the table, stood a long, skinny box. His head was poised staring off into the corridor where I would appear. He could always hear my faint steps approach him. He greeted me with his knee-buckling smile.

"Hi, how are you?" He stepped closer to me, his eyes yearning for something. I didn't know what.

"Good, thanks. You?"

 "I'm getting along; hey, I heard your father and you had an argument this morning. Are you sure you're okay?" His eyes gleaming into mine, while reaching out his hand for my arm. He gently caressed my skin, sending sparks running through my body.

"I'm fine, don't worry. We just had different opinions on a mission." His eyes scanning my heart for the truth. He knew that that was not the whole truth, but he didn't know what was. He didn't know that it was partially about him. He didn't know that my father had inquiries about our relationship, had thoughts about moving Vaughn off my case. I objected and convinced him not to, after hours of pleading and weak justifications, knowing that the only reason to keep him as my handler is the only reason why he would be removed.

            He took away his hand from my arm, leaving behind a sudden coldness. He strode over to the table and picked up the box that held my attention the whole time I was there. He gestured for me to take it, a grin beginning to appear on his face, adorned with excitement.

"Here, open this. I saw them and I had to buy them for you. I thought you might need some cheering up. I hope you like them, the color reminded me of when we first met." He laughed at his last thought. My eyes became stern, trying to figure out what was in the box.

            I took it from him, our hands slightly touching causing such peace. I opened the box all the while watching his face intently, trying to uncrack the code to his ever growing grin. Lifting the lid, I saw what he had meant by the last comment. Inside, carefully placed, lay a dozen red roses perfectly tied with a tiny gold ribbon keeping them secure, safe. Red roses. I laughed catching onto his idea of a thoughtful joke. I didn't pick them up, or smell them, instead pulled Vaughn into me, catching him off-guard. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I fell into his grasp. He reached his arms around me and I could hear his every breath, soft and soothing. Warmth filled my entire being, running through every limb. After relaxing into the position, he took one hand away and stroked my hair. My head fit perfectly into the cavity underneath his chin. We slowly parted, my eyes tear stained, and I quickly brushed them away, hoping he wouldn't notice them.

"Don't cry, you don't like them?" His eyes suddenly filled with hurt.

"No, oh no. I love them, it is just that they are so beautiful and you.. you .. are so considerate. I love them, thank you." I quickly responded afraid that he thought I had disliked the roses, his eyes lifted upon my reaction. My heart swelled with love for him, pleading to break free. Wiping away more tears of joy, I realized where we were.

"Is there any mission or goings on at CIA?" It took all my energy to turn the conversation around, it broke my heart. His face stared off into my eyes; I saw his heart breaking as well. Neither of us wanted to leave that sweet embrace that broke all the rules, all the lies, all the secrets, and all of our masks hiding the truth of our hearts.

"Um, no. I'm sorry, we're you busy. I just thought you needed some happiness, sorry if I gave you more grief and …"

            I stopped him, interrupting his ramblings of fabrications and random thoughts of unhappiness. "No, I'm glad that you called me. I was having a terrible day, and you really helped. Don't be sorry. I appreciate that you thought of me." My eyes glowed, as did his smile.

            My loving memory of him, smiling at me, his heart still beating was cut short. Unfinished.  I stirred my head, my vision becoming clear again. I saw in my hands a bouquet of flowers that I had chosen and the owner of the store standing in front of me.

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss?" She was tapping me on the shoulder. "Are you going to buy those?"

"Um, yes." My thoughts were scattered again, only concentrating on him waiting for me.

"Are you okay?" She looked at me with such fearful eyes while tapping her heels of her shoes. I wanted to hit her over the head with those shoes.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why?" I was getting quite irritated with her. First she had the nerve to deprive me of my sweet memories and now to question me, a person she didn't know at all. No one knows me.

"It's just that you are crying. Anyway, is that all that you need today? We have a sale on petunias. Buy one, get two for free."

            She looked at me, I glared at her. My head throbbing with hurt and a never-ending pain. I touch my face, unaware that I was crying. I frantically wipe the tears away. My eyes glancing about frantically. "No, thanks. That is all." 

            I paid the lady who stood impatiently waiting the whole time when I studied the flowers with such precision.  I walked away half upset from the nerve of that woman and half excited to show him the flowers that I had remembered. To tell him that I didn't forget him, that I could never forget him, never.

            With anticipation, I rushed to his home carrying the flowers clutched in my hands. By the time, I reached him; my hands were sweaty and aching. As I rounded over the hills to his grave, I relaxed. The throbbing in my heart subsided in that I will be talking to him shortly. Passing over grave after grave, without any thought of whom they were or what happened to them, I focused on the grave that read: Michael Vaughn. My heart surged forward, crying out for him.

I knelt down, taking away a single hand from the precious flowers and laid it on the top of the statue. I sat in silence thinking of how I should start our conversation today. Should I start out with all the lies and secrets or start with the goings on of my life? I never know how to start talking to him, but once I do, it takes hours for me to stop. The pent up feelings of destruction and rage welled up and poured over my edges. I didn't even have the chance to decide what I would say, when my heart had already made it up for me.

 "Sloane talked to me today, and I … I.. lied again." Tears of guilt seep out, watering the grass that blanketed him, keeping him warm. I can't stand to disappoint him; I know he is I can feel it. "I tried to  ... to force real meaningful words out of my mouth, but they... they wouldn't come. And, and I couldn't think because he reminded me of that night and I couldn't bare and I kept seeing you and I couldn't breathe and think and I  ..." I sank down into nothing, trying to reach down into the ground and pull him out. Tears masking out all sound. "And I couldn't tell him about about you and I just cried and he thought it was because of all the stress of work and I lied, I … I lied about you, again." Looking up the sky, I screamed up the words that I felt at every second of everyday. "I'm sorry."

            Crumpling up into a ball, I cried, one hand latched onto the brilliant shade of red and the other resting ever so gently on his home. "I miss you. I miss you. I'm sorry, so sorry. Please forgive me." My words falling on deaf ears.

            A faint sound of a distant sob unlike mine emerged from the silence of isolation. My head shot up from the darkness I hid in and searched for the person who kept watching me. I only saw nothing, just bare trees and lonely graves. It was a terrible sound, someone crying but muffled, trying to keep it under control only to make it worse. I kept hearing it, persistently growing smaller and farther away. I silently began to uncrumple and stand, weakly using Vaughn's grave for support. As I began to walk, the flowers that I treasure fell to his grave, leaves dismembered.

            Leaving the beloved roses, a dozen of them, lying on his grave, next to my forgotten purse, I follow the sounds of distressed tears. My steps fragile and delicate, hoping that the hidden person would not hear me. Looking behind every tree with double glances, I still saw no one, no cars, no one. The cold breeze swept by face and sent chills down my body; I wrapped my arms around me to keep away the numbness. The cold kept penetrating my defenseless being. Going further in, my pace quickened, afraid that I might be able to find anything.

 My heart beating wildly, I could hear it, distinct. The wind didn't stop beating at me, nor did the sound that was stuck in my ears, as if I had trapped it in. After I had gone at least a mile from my comfort, I had broken into a steady run. I only heard two sounds: the sound of my heavy shoes clunking along echoing through the nothingness and the ever-clear sob that never seemed to stop, it was at a whisper blowing in my ear. Tempting me, tricking me.  Finally I heard something other than the peculiar sob, a snap of a twig. It echoed and rang furiously through my ears, waking me up. My head spun to the right, where the sound was emitted into the hollowness of the cemetery. 

Behind a tall, spindly tree, I saw the person. Draped in a long, black coat, the person stood there staring at me, making sure I didn't see their flustered face. I couldn't move. The cry continued and I just stared, trying to unravel the coat in my mind. Without even noticing, the person had vanished before my ignorant eyes, dimmed by the ever murky glare of tears.

I stayed put for at least an hour of darkness, feeling nothing but the pain shooting through my body from my pounding heart. I didn't sway, I barely breathed. My eyes kept pin pointing the spot where a nameless, faceless person had watched me, just as silent. Wiping away the tears that kept on coming, something I have gotten used to, I began to creep back over the hills of chilly air to retrieve my senses. I wandered back, thinking of nothing, just a speck roaming around letting the wind take where ever it pleases.

The wind guided me back to home, to his home, to my only source of comfort. I picked up the flowers and dusted off the dirt and tears that had stained them. I relayed them on his grave, perfectly in the center, hopefully he would remember them. Reaching for my purse, dirt and tearstained as well, I unsteadily rose and walked out of the cemetery, tattered, confused and reassured. As I reached the steel gate that separated the living and the dead, I looked back at him. The bright red roses glowing amid the dull colors that surrounded it, an indication of love and remembrance. 

After a taxi ride of comforting silence, I arrived home. Walking up the path to my real home, a sudden surge of panic was sent through me.  I know that when I open that door, Francie will see me, grief-stricken and torn, and I will have to answer a billion questions that I answer everyday. I opened the door warily and saw Francie, as usual waiting for me. She was seated at the couch, in her hand a phone and next to her a clock that read ten o'clock. The numbers blinding my senses, jarring my ability to comprehend. My heart sank and I wanted to run away. I couldn't possibly been gone that long. I glanced out the window and saw nothing but a film of darkness. 

 "Where have you been?" My mouth agape, she started the usual round of questions.

            I didn't answer the question, but instead I changed the subject, hoping she would forget. "Work ran late, sorry. Anyway, what is for dinner I'm starving?" I forced a smile and walked to the kitchen.

 "Come on Syd, I'm not stupid. Where have you been?" She stood up and followed me, slamming the cupboard door, which I had opened.

 "Work! You have a job that is demanding, you should understand. Now if you don't mind, I am going to find something to eat, since I have been working this whole day!! And maybe you should get a life, instead of waiting around the whole day for me, worrying. I'm fine, no need to worry. I am under control and I don't need you to be checking up on me every second of the day!" I was screaming into her face. I have never screamed at her. Her face immediately shrunk to nothing. "I'm sorry, I've just had a very stressful day." More tears, of the same never ending flow started, muffling my speech. "And .. and I'm sorry and I  just need to .." I don't know what I need. My mind searched for something tangible to stop her from questioning me," lie down. I'm sorry." 

Putting my hand over the pulsating vein on my head, I walked out of the room leaving a stunned Francie reaching for the phone. As I closed the door carefully, avoiding a loud smack to further hurt my head, I heard her dialing on the phone. I heard her whisper into the receiver. I heard her whisper his name, Mr. Bristow. I heard her tell him that he should talk to me. I could even hear my father driving to my house that very second. I put on my pajamas and waited, knowing that in minutes, he would open the door and ask the same question Francie had. Where have you been? 

Rummaging my brain for any excuse as to exclude him form the truth, I sat in silence. I couldn't find anything that seemed right. Then I shifted and started trying to answer the real question. I couldn't. Where had I been? What was I doing? I don't know, I just know I was telling him the truth. I can't tell my father that. I kept searching for another answer, but all I came up with was, I was telling him the truth. 

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	5. I Loved Him

*HI!!!!!! Sorry it took so long to update!!!!! Hope you like it!!!!!!! 

Chapter 5- I Loved Him

            As soon as I had gotten my mind and tears off of Vaughn, I heard my dad walk through the front door. I heard his dark and heavy steps coming closer and closer to my door. I waited, knowing that any excuse I would make wouldn't work. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared at a spot on the wall; a piece of paint was peeling. The chipped corner was delicate but strong. The crack that forced it to split seemed to be growing and becoming more powerful. Finally the footsteps stopped outside my door and I stopped thinking about the paint peeling away from the wall, peeling away from life.

"Sydney?" He opened the door, causing it to creak, and peeked his head inside.

"Hi, come in. How are you?" I tried making small talk before ending up in a pool of tears. He knew better than to trust my antics of changing the subject and sat next to me, silent.

            He sat there next to me and closed his eyes. I wanted to know what he was thinking about, why was he so silent. His silence got to me and that's when I noticed what he was trying to do. He was trying to force the words out of me through my own useless silence that I held onto with such persistence. I crept up from my indented seat on my bed and walked out the door, leaving him there, defeated. Before I was two steps outside the door, he grabbed my arm, gently and forced me back to my spot on the bed, closing the door behind us.

"Sydney, I talked to Sloane today and managed to get you a week's vacation. He noticed how stressed out you are and how unlike yourself you have become. I also cleared a vacation with Devlin as well." He stared at me, trying to force a sign of emotion from my face. I showed no sign of excitement or sorrow. He kept on going, thinking if he kept talking long enough, I might have an opinion on the matter.

"Tomorrow, if you want to we can meet somewhere for lunch. What do you think?" I didn't reply, even though I thought it was a good idea. "Maybe that new café down by the ocean or Francie's? Anyway, Sydney, please talk." No, I thought, but I didn't want to speak it. He would get my answer from the deafening sound of silence.

"Sydney, I know you weren't working late. I know where you were, I can see it on your face. I can see it in your eyes. You don't have to lie to me or block me out. I know a lot more than you think I do, I knew before he was gone." He had lost and embraced the fact that he had, and was trying to get something for it. The last sentence scarred me. Why did he have to bring him up so soon into the conversation? I could feel the tears warming up, ready to break in at any second.

"Where was I?" He couldn't have possibly known. Nobody knows, except for me and at times I don't even know when I go there. He had driven the silence out of me, I had to prove him wrong, and I have to be right. I have to be right sometime.

"Seeing him. Sydney it has been a year, get on with your life. He was just your handler, and probably some childish crush that meant nothing. You have to get on with your life. He knew the risks that were involved with his job in the CIA." His voice kept getting louder and booming. I couldn't help it any more. The familiar tears started draining their selves from my sleep deprived eyes. I wanted to slap him for what he had said about Vaughn, I had already lied about Vaughn today. I couldn't disappoint him again.

"Just for your information I was seeing him today, again. You are right, as always. I see him every day and it was not a silly crush. And he was something, somebody. Not a nothing. He was never a nothing and never will be." I couldn't believe what I was saying, what I was screaming at my father. What I was confessing. 

"He was not just my handler, he was more. He was the only person I could ever truly trust. And I killed him. I killed him, not the CIA. He didn't die because of his job. He died because of me. And I miss him. Yes, I should probably get on with my life, but I can't forget about him, like he was never in my life. And yes, you might say that he wasn't. But .. but he was. He was a huge part of my life. I woke up every day happy knowing that I would see him, now I'm lost in a world full of darkness and cruelty. I loved him. Are you hearing that clear enough, I LOVED HIM!!!!!" 

I was standing now, the tears streaming madly down my raging face. I couldn't lie, I let it all out. All the hidden secrets, all the lies, all the hurt stashed away at the bottom of my heart. My heart beating rapidly, my eyes wide with anguish stared at him making sure he got every word that leaked from my mouth. I all of a sudden felt weak, too weak to stand, to weak to be.

"I loved him, I loved him." Dropping down to the edge of the bed, falling on the cold floor, supporting my feeble body, I kept mumbling the words that I never spoke to the person they were meant to be spoken to. Shaking and heaving, I sat crumpled, while my father watched on in awe on his tormented girl. Unable to comprehend anything I had said, he sat and stared at me crying, dying inside, for minutes. Neither of us moved, until he couldn't take the sight of me any longer.

"Sy-Sydney, I'm sorry. I ..I didn't know you felt that strongly about him." I could hear his fingers fumbling and then felt him move towards the door. "I'll call you tomorrow about lunch. Bye." He left as soon as he had come; I had never seen him act like that before, even after Mom apparently died. Shaking my head, not wanting to think about anything with any value, I turned off the lamp shining brightly into my dim little world.

            I found the energy to somehow crawl into my bed and wrap the soft, warm covers around my cold body. My thoughts circling around nothing. Closing my eyes, shutting out the world around me, I try to think of anything except for what happened today. I can't, his face still looms over my eyes, the roses still vividly red, and that man in the cemetery still black and hollow watching me. Rolling over on my side, forcing the covers to drape out any light, I fall into a deep, unsettling sleep, all the while seeing his face. Haunting me, forcing me to live a lie. The tears still in a torrential downpour, I silently whisper the words I wish he could hear, "I love you." The hunger for him apparent in my coarse throat, in my sore heart, and in my shadowy eyes that saw him in everything.

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	6. Wrong Number

*Thanks for the great review! Keep reviewing though, Thanks! So here is the next chapter, ENJOY!

Chapter 6-Wrong Number

            All night I couldn't sleep, his face kept waking me up. I kept hearing his voice, feeling his presence near. Tossing and turning, I awoke every twenty minutes crying for no apparent reason. No dreams, just a constant picture floating in my mind, taunting me. I see him chained to that steel chair, bleeding, helpless. I can smell the raw and distinct scent of blood, his blood. His eyes drained of any life except for a longing for me to let him die. And I did, I killed him and no one understands that. No one understands me. 

Why did he have to do that to me? Part of me hates him for doing this to me and then I remember his soft smile that made it hard for me to stand. After hours of this torture, I gave in and lay in my cave of darkness and cried. Sobbing like a child, I finally felt relief. I felt all the sorrow and anguish pour out of me and surround me, embracing me, keeping me safe. I can't deal with this any more, I want to go away from everything that is real and happy. I want to just be free of all this hurt and disappoint. I fall asleep listening to my silent sobs of truth, damp and cold, alone. The dim light of comfort sweeping over my flimsy self, relaxing me for once.

 I awoke in a panic; I heard the phone off in the distance. Tears still gliding down my porcelain-like face. Pushing the warm covers off of my body, I fumble around the end table searching for the ringing phone. The blinding sunlight pouring in through the window disables my sight, causing me to knock over everything on the table, including the phone and countless other things of importance. Hanging halfway over the bed, the blood rushing to my head, already light-headed from my pity, I pick up the phone, oblivious to what was lying on the ground broken.

"Hello," a coarse sound emits from my throat, still trying to wake up. Dry salty tears slide into the open gap.

"Joey's Pizza." 

"Wrong number." 

He hung up. Why did Weiss have to keep Vaughn's words? Every time that I picked up the phone and heard those words, I died inside. Vaughn was supposed to be calling me, Vaughn was supposed to be meeting me at the warehouse, and Vaughn was supposed to watching out for my every move. Clinging onto the receiver, I couldn't breath. Why? I have heard those words for a year now in a different voice, in a different tone and every time, I feel the same. I feel lost, desperate, and empty. My eyes began to burn with a similar dampness, which I now greet with happiness that eventually will cascade down my already stained face.

            Setting down the phone lightly on the empty table, I scour the floor for what I broke from my blindness. My clock, which doesn't really faze me because time doesn't matter to me any more, my lamp, fractured spraying the ground with remnants of it, my cell phone, and…. No, please no. 

            Jumping to my feet, tangled in the sheets, I fall to the ground cutting my arm on the shattered bits of lamp. I am in such a state of grief that I don't even mind the pain; in fact I find it quite welcoming and wish it hurt more. Gathering the numerous pieces of the broken frame, I cry into them. The antique frame he bought years ago. He bought for me. The only thing I have ever owned that had any link to him, any link to the truth. He had gotten for me, as a gift and I broke it.

"No, no. no. no." My cries became one long never-ending strand of no's. Placing the fractured pieces of his frame, drizzled with tears of regret, safely on my bed, I went to get ready to meet Weiss, not Vaughn. Never Vaughn, even though I wished I would see him when I rounded the corner of the warehouse. I never did. And I never will. No matter how hard I wish.

            I got dressed not even realizing what I was putting on, thankfully it matched, and I walked out of my corner of the world, leaving the broken lamp and clock motionless on the floor. Picking up my purse off the counter, I saw another note that had my name on it. It was the same texture and color of the other two mysterious letters. The only thing different about this one was its message. It contained the usual message Don't Cry, but had other words tacked on, rushed like in a last minute decision. They were scrawled out hastily splotched with drops of tears, I could barely read it: It hurts when you cry.

            A terrifying chill was sent down my spine, I suddenly glanced out the windows. It began to creep me out that someone was watching my every move and what were they referring to by "it"? Why did they have such a passion for following me, I was just a strand of dust blowing in the wind? I quickly stash the note away in my purse, which is full of all my secrets that I hide from the world.

            Arriving at the warehouse, I see Weiss' car already there. Late. Great, another lie I will have to make up and force myself to speak. I walk into the bitter cold of the warehouse, and actually convince myself that I will see Vaughn sitting on the chair that he always sat on, staring at the corridor, waiting for me. Excited to see him again, to hear his voice, a smile begins to spread across my face, the first in a long time. When I rounded the corner and slid the gate back, my heart began to speed up in anticipation. He wasn't there and when I realized why Weiss was sitting in his chair, I couldn't help myself from breaking down. The smile quickly fading.

"Hey, what's wrong, Sydney?"

"Nothing, nothing is… nothing is wrong." I bring my eyes up to his, defying him, hoping he wouldn't keep interrogating me.

            He didn't have to ask, I knew that he knew. He pulled me into his arms, but I didn't feel any safer. I felt worse, I pulled away immediately. 

"So, what is the matter? I thought I had the week off?" My eyes staring off into the vacant chair where he was supposed to be seated.

 "Well, you are not going to believe this but you're wish came true." He lowered his eyes trying to figure out the puzzled look that crept its way on my face. "Sydney, don't you get it? What's the one thing you have wished for?"

            My head lowers, the only thing that I have been wishing for is Vaughn and I know for a fact that he wasn't what Weiss was talking about. "What?" I grind my fingers together, hoping he didn't notice the venom that was along with my question.

"SD-6 will be destroyed by this time tomorrow. You will be free."

            My heart stopped. Is this a joke? His face lit up in telling me. But how? Every thing seemed to be spinning, including the empty chair that has managed to escape my mind.

"What?" My face in utter disbelief, stunned. 

"Well after the disk you retrieved from the KGB which held all the businesses that dealt with SD-6, you were able to interrogate other groups and cause them to no longer work with SD-6, then this morning, I got the call form Devlin that tomorrow we will be attacking the Credit Dauphine or should I say SD-6."

"Oh my gosh, that's wonderful." A smile of hopeful thinking wound itself up onto my tortured face. I can't believe it. My heart begins to quicken and I can't stop smiling. Sloane is going to be gone, and I will be free. I will be free, no more lies, no more secrets, just the truth. "Wh…What am I going to do? Am I going in tomorrow?"

"No, you will stay at home until someone calls you like I do and then you will report to headquarters just to make sure you are safe. Ok?"

"Yes, I got it." My head still reeling from all the information that overwhelmed my senses with bliss. "Well, I have to go. I will see you tomorrow." I give him a quick hug that feels forced and terrible, but doesn't break the happiness that has finally found me.

            Walking out of the warehouse, my echoing footsteps, dark and hollow, my happiness leaves me. I remember all the pain and hurt and confusion. I remember the frame that I broke, I remember my life. I remember my horrible past. And worst of all, I remember him. I remember that he is no longer alive. Leaving through the clinking of the steel gates, I remember how he would go first and open them for me. A gentleman, always. 

            The sunshine that had sunk its way through the clouds began to hide again, revealing only a gloomy light on everything. A rainstorm began and I let it go, hopefully washing away all of my memories, all of my past. With every step I take on the cold, unfriendly cement, a tear drops by my feet, echoing, reminding me. Opening my car door, I sink into the plush leather and sit still, staring off into the close steering wheel. 

            I want to be happy, I really do, but how can I be happy if I can't be seen with him out in the open. The thing that I have been aspiring for years now means nothing. It means nothing, because I have no one to talk to, no one to trust. SD-6 is gone and I am as well. Putting my car into gear, I wipe away the tears, almost on routine, and head towards the one place where I can feel a little bit of happiness. A smile, the third of the day, begins to take place of the tears; he will be so happy when he finds out that SD-6 is gone. I can't wait to tell him. Driving out of the parking lot I think to myself, what flowers should I bring him today?

*I know the angst!! But hey, the angst will clear away, just stay with me! Please review, I love them and the more you give me, the faster I can write the faster you can read it. Thanks. And please check out my other fics!  And remember REVIEW!


	7. Red Go

*Thanks to all those of you who keep reviewing, I love them and they help me type faster. Hopefully, you enjoy this chapter! As always, reviews are gratefully appreciated! 

Chapter 7-Red Go

Walking along the concrete path littered with painful tears and memories, to him, my heart flutters. My steps light and carefree, unaware of what I'm really feeling. What we have dreamed about for years was now coming true, what we had worked for together, side by side. The many awkward moments alone in the isolation of the warehouse, which I wouldn't trade for anything, vivid in my mind tumbling around each second finally amounting to something more than just our inseparable love. All the darkness in my life has begun to vanish, momentarily, leaving me a glimmer of light through my hollow sight, until I see him again or should I say the grassy spot on the cold rocky ground claiming him. 

As soon as my sparkling eyes saw the place where I go everyday, they became dull once more, restraining the oncoming tears of misery.  Forgetting about the blessed takedown of SD-6 that will take place in one day, I remember him. I remember everything that every day I wish I will just forget. My heart cries out for him, a huge hole that I never knew he had filled until he was gone, plucked from my garden of withering roses, now all dead.

 A sound far away snaps my head in every direction. I feel a pair of eyes staring at me deeply, but I can't see them. Looking at every angle possible, I see nothing except the occasional leaf, dead and decayed, blowing by in the troubling wind. I can hear my heart pounding slightly harder and faster as I resist the desire to search the cemetery for the origin of the mysterious sounds that emerge from the dimness of nothing. I return my deadened eyes, black no longer a welcoming brown, to who I came for; I come back to an obscure reality different from the cruel one I live in. 

Staring at him, laying peacefully, I can still recall the way make stomach would do flip-flops when we touched. I can still smell the luring scent of his cologne lingering in the warehouse entranceway, enticing me to run in and talk to him. Closing my eyes, I inhale the sweet smell I had conjured in my own little world causing me to go light-headed for a split second.

Wiping away the tears that suddenly began to creep their way up to the surface, I realize that I don't care about the raid except that I will be free. Free from everything, from life. My horrible job full of deceit and misery is almost done and through the excitement I feel the same pain. I have no one to share it with, even though I know Will will be just as happy, but he is not who I am thinking about, not even remotely. He has not been the person I have been yearning for limitlessly for years.  
            I open my mouth, trying to tell him the unbelievable news, but can't. The words caught in my throat, coarse and scratched. Every time I tried and retried to force the simple thoughts into sounds, they came out has strangled cries. I will never be able to tell him like this. I could feel the darkness encompass me and swallow me into its shadowy way of life. I can't live like this. I finally have an idea that I can speak, that I can tell him, which I can smile from. I don't have any second thoughts or regrets in my mind.

"Hi, I have news to tell you, but I don't think I can tell you out here out loud, but you won't believe it. You won't, I know you won't." I was grinning, teasing him, and telling him something that I know I can't say out in the open. I began to feel flushed. "I know you will be happy when I tell you, but I don't think I will be able to tell you like this. I will tell you though, soon." Laying down the pink tulips I picked out by a nearby florist, I didn't cry. For once, not a single tear fell down in despair, for I know I will see him shortly. "I love you Michael, I love you so much." A tear of love and hope fell from my gleaming eyes. Picking up my things, my tattered purse, I walk out of the cemetery, calm for once, and look up to make sure he saw me.

            The wind rustling the fallen leaves and my hair, blowing in every direction, I sense someone watching me again and can hear a faint cry, but quickly dismiss it. I am too focused on what I have to do. A rare smile quickly spreads across my face realizing that I will soon be with him. A block away from here there is a stoplight which I will wait for a red light. Once I see the yellow light signaling me to get ready, I will go. I won't look back; I won't think back, I will just keep focused on the red light.

Rolling my car window down, I know what I must do. I see the brilliant green light, like his dazzling eyes, telling me to stop becoming yellow then red. Pressing harder on the gas pedal, I run through the red light screaming at me to go, not to stop.  I close my eyes afraid and nervous, not sure of what I'm doing, never letting up on the gas. Crashing into another car, I spin fast and out of control. I can hear the screeching of my tires grinding on the rough tar, burning. My head strikes the wheel, which my white knuckles are gripping onto tightly, sweaty. I am plunged into a world of an unfamiliar darkness, no sound, no sight, not feeling the weight of the car crushing up against my helpless body. 

I could only feel the pressure of someone's horrified eyes pressed onto me, crumpled and bleeding in the heap of cracked metal as my meaningless life begins to slip away. 

*So, how did you like it? See if she survives and who is the mystery person watching her in the next chapter!! Please review and thanks!


	8. Awake

*Sorry for the extremely long update! I had exams and papers and then vacation! But no excuses, I'm sorry and I hope this satisfies you!! Please let me know how you think about it! Enjoy! And I can't believe Jen lost!!! She should have won and did you see the preview at the end of Cipher? Can't wait for next week!! Anyway here it is the long awaited update! Again, sorry!

Chapter 8- Awake

Flicking my eyes open, a bright light shines all around me. For a second I think I have succeeded but alas I see the IV needles sticking in my frail arm and sink back into the stiff bed hoping that no one is here to see me or talk to me. Still alive, still alone and still in pain. Moving around in the tightly drawn up white sheets, my muscles begin to ache and every bone in my body seems to be broken. Tears begin to cascade down my face, salty and bitter, and I wish I would have crashed harder. Now I have to deal with questions and an endless stream of people always checking up on my every move. 

I hate hospitals; always have ever since I was little. I can still remember that night when I was woken up from the comfort of my pink sheets and thrown into another life full of fear, the one I still live in. I went to bed that night thinking of nothing except wishing the babysitter that was tucking me was my mother. With my teddy bear night light glowing in the corner of my room and the identical stuffed version which my mother had just bought me that day tucked gently under my tiny arms, I fell asleep listening to the soft plinks of the rain hitting the panels on our house. Two hours later, Emma, my babysitter, burst through the half open door allowing cruel light to pour into my room, tears glistening in her eyes. 

"Sydney, get up. We have to go somewhere. Sydney? Are you awake?" She ran to my bed, her footsteps loud and careless. I felt a slight nudging of my shoulder.

"Mommy?" My eyes thick with the memory of sleep didn't recognize the person kneeling before me. Blinking my eyes several times, I realized it was her again and then I saw her tears. 

"No, Sydney, it's me, Emma. Now come on, we have to go. Quickly find a pair of shoes that are easy to slip on." Her words that are usually soft and comforting are now monotone and almost automatic, trying to hold back her real emotions, something that I will adopt and regrettably cherish.

"Why?" Being the curious child I was and still am, I sat up but didn't get off the bed, still gripping tightly onto my teddy. She stood there for a second, her eyes darting around the room while a tear silently slid down her face. A chill was sent spinning down through my spine, scaring me. She knew something and wasn't telling me. I always hated it when grown-ups hid things from you and acted like you were clueless, that you weren't capable of understanding. 

"Um, because I .. I , uh, something happened and … and we need to go …go quickly." She still didn't look at me, her eyes glazy and far-off into a trance, but pulled my warm covers off of my body.

"Wha _" The way she talked, raspy and uncertain and how her hands shook as they helped me up and out of my bed evoked fear and I re-tightened my grip on my teddy bear.

 "Don't ask me what me what, just please get your shoes on quickly!" She yelled at me and I ran over to my closet and hurriedly opened the door, without looking at her. I began to cry, but hid the salty tears well, only letting out a stifled sniffle here and there.

            Reaching into my small closet, I grabbed my pair of pink sneakers with white Velcro straps that were decorated with pink flowers and bluebirds. They reminded me of my favorite time of the year, spring, when my parents would take me to the lake and all day I would swim and smell the sweet scent of lilacs and other flowers whose names I couldn't pronounce at the time. 

            I hastily shoved them onto my cold bare feet and felt the rough insides scrap against my skin. I looked up at Emma, she was holding my winter coat in one hand and her keys in the other, both vividly shaking. Her blue eyes holding such pain and anguish and I didn't know what to think. What had happened? Why was I being rushed around and yelled at? I didn't ask knowing that that would only create more yelling and frustrations. I picked up my teddy bear, still faintly crying to myself and followed Emma out the door. 

            After running into her car, dodging the increasing fall of rain splattering down on us, she rapidly buckled me, her hands slipping several times as she struggled to get the belt to latch. She drove in silence and I was too afraid to ask where she was driving to, so I stayed silent as well. I bit my lip to stop the tears of confusion and fear and as we drove past the stoplight flashing green, I tasted blood.

            The drive to the hospital, which I realized we were going to as soon as I saw it come into view, was a blur of silence and hushed tears, by both of us. I could feel Emma's eyes every so often glance over at me wondering if she should tell me what was burning away at the tip of her tongue.

            Once she parked the car and ran over to my side, the rain still making everything hazy, she helped me unbuckle the seatbelt. Her eyes distant and tempted to look at mine, they didn't. She didn't talk, nor did I. Walking hand in hand, my other hand clutching my bear, we approached the front sliding doors and I could feel a prickling feeling race through my body almost causing me to drop my bear. I increased my sweaty grip on the bear held in my tiny hands. Emma didn't look at me as we walked through the doors and into the waiting room filled with people filling out forms and waiting patiently while trying to cover the hurt and pain in their eyes and holding their wounds close to their bodies.

            I immediately drew myself closer into Emma's body and as soon as I did, she placed a comforting arm over my shoulder as she guided me over to the desk. As soon as I saw the hospital, I had an idea why we were going here. My horrifying suspicions were true when our turn was up at the front desk and she spoke.

"Can you please tell me where Mr. Jack Bristow is being held or how he is doing?" She spoke quickly and softly, probably not wanting me to hear. But I did. I heard every word and my bear dropped from hands and landed on the floor with a loud thud. Emma didn't notice my tears becoming thicker and faster and louder.

"Only family is allowed to see him." The lady didn't look up from her computer as she typed furiously with her thin fingernails.

"I'm the babysitter; I have his daughter with me. Can you please tell me where he is?" Her tone of voice sharpening and she leaned in closer to the desk. I stayed put, not thinking of anything but my daddy and why was he in the hospital. I turned out the rest of the conversation, terrified of what I might hear, and looked outside the transparent glass doors. The rain was falling harder as if sensing my fear and pain while ambulances flew by flashing their red lights over the front waiting room.

            Without even noticing it, my little feet were being pulled down the hall by my hand that was latched into Emma's hand. In her other hand was my teddy bear which I forgot about. Another ten seconds later, I was in an elevator listening to Emma's rough voice trying to tell me what happened before I saw my dad lying in a hospital bed and why I wouldn't see my mother ever again. Her words circled around me and the unwelcoming smell of medicine and death swarmed my senses. I took the bear from her arms and held it tightly in my arms. I kept shaking my head as my bear became wet with my tears. 

A faint sound of a creaking chair brought me back to my just as cruel reality. Bringing my limp fingers to my red face, I try to wipe away the bitter tears that have begun to dry and stiffen. Slowly turning my neck to side to side, I see the clean hallway to my left through the clear glass separating me and the world of the living. Outside my room, I can see a man with brown hair sitting in a chair and leaning his head onto the cold glass. His breath fogging up a section of the glass where his face was more turned. He moves again causing another creak of his plastic chair.

Raising my hand, pale and thin, transparent through the bright lights, I try to get his attention. It couldn't be him, could it? Shocks of pain begins to run up and down my arm and then notice the damage I have done, everything else gets hazy and I lose the focus on the man waiting for me to wake up. I examine it, noticing tiny cuts all over, red and dried up. Running along the inner of my arm, a long white scar emerges through the coarse skin. A soft tear falls on it, splashing it with relief.

 Immediately I hear soft clicks of shoes entering my room and see the man's head turn sideways trying to figure out who was entering my room, just like me. I quickly close my eyes and pull my hand back down to my side, but not in time, the nurse sees me and I can see the excitement in her eyes that her patient is awake.

The lady is holding a tray adorned with a glass full of ice water, pills of every color, and needles holding some type of a clear fluid. "Finally awake? How are you feeling?" After setting down her tray on the formica table next to me, she begins to fluff the flat pillows against my back, still throbbing from pain.

"Uh.. a little sore," the words breathy and strained. Slight movement from outside the window catches my attention and the man is gone.

"Well, that is expected. You know you have been unconscious for days now." Wiping away strands of her blonde hair from her face, she stands in front of me with an honest expression.

"How many days?" I try to breathe in a deep breath but it makes my chest hurt even more and forces tears out.  

"Today will be six. You have had many visitors in here. There was this one man who seemed incredibly distraught, in fact he was here just moments ago. Do you want me to go get him or to just let you rest awhile?"

"Do you know what his name is?" Immediately I thought of him and who he might be, but then I remembered that he was in a grave, where I should be. I forget about how I was out of it for six days and inquire about my hopeful theory. 

"No, I don't, do you want me to go get him or ask him who he is?" She started to hand me the glass of water and a handful of pills. My head still spinning and clouded from just waking up and my heart aches from forgetting that he was gone.

"You can get him, please." She gave me ten pills and handed me the glass of water that shook in my unstable hands. She leaves as soon as she sees that I have them, not noticing my inability to raise the glass of water or even hold it correctly. Within seconds, I hear her sneakers coming through the hall and see her stare at me. Behind her, I see the man that was sitting in front of my room. His eyes watching my eyes that are filled with tears and distress. My hand holding the pills flips over and the ten colorful capsules bounce and dance onto the hard floor. 

"Are you okay? I'll get it don't you worry." The lady simply walks over and rushes to pick them up allowing the man to appear in full view. I don't even move an inch or a muscle. My gaze locked on him as the corners of his eyes begin to well up with tears. I can't believe he would care this much about me. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, just a sudden gasping for fresh air. 

"Sydney," his voice full of longing and compassion that I never seem to have noticed.

            I flutter my eyes from the oncoming flood of tears and I no longer wish I would have died. 

*So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Curious as to who it is? Tell me what you think and your predictions! It will help me write faster and believe me this update will be ten times faster than the last one! Also check out my other fics, I will be updating them all in the next few days. Thanks and again don't hate me for the wait!


	9. Stay Forever

*Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing. They make my day! Please keep them up, thanks! Anyway, on with the next chapter, as always Enjoy!

Chapter 9- Stay Forever

He began to walk closer to me, his steps slow and soft almost as if he was barely touching the floor. All I could do was to stare into his eyes and shake my head in disbelief. The nurse began to stand up, the pills clutched in her hands, unaware of the tension that suddenly began to flood into the room. Drowning in it, I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Keeping my eyes on him, scanning him up and down side to side, making sure my mind wasn't playing another malicious joke on me, I noticed his eyes were welling up with tears as he saw the horrible sight in front of him. I blushed from the shame of letting him see me this weak and tormented. As he approached my bed, I said nothing and did nothing except letting the effortless tears stream down my face of relief and confusion. 

This can't be possible. He is not alive. They told me he was dead. Sloane told me, not that I trust him, but in matters of someone's death I do, killing is the only thing he knows how to do. Devlin told me, Weiss told me, and Dad told me. So how can he be here now? How can I hear his even and steady heartbeat crying out to the world that he is alive? How could he do this to me? I tried to mask out my emotions on my face, but when my feelings deal with Vaughn, I have no control, never. 

Re-gripping the taught sheets, I feel as if the world around me is spinning like carousal, round and round, faster and faster, never slowing down. The world around going blurry, except him. He remained constant and sharp, even when he was dead; he was always vivid in my mind, branded on the back of my eyelids. By now the nurse had slipped from the room quietly without either of us detecting it. We were alone with her or without her, alone in our own world unaware of anything real. He tried to speak but just let out a small smile with tears breaking through his now somewhat sparkling eyes, they weren't as bright as before, something had dulled them and it breaks my heart even further not knowing. 

Part of me began to despise him as he sat down in the brown chair next to my bed. How could he do this to me? How could he let me torture myself like this? But those thoughts of hatred and hurt were gone when he took the glass of water from my hand ever so gently and replaced it with his warm hand, fingers intertwining. A sudden warmth, a tingling of everything good in life, comforting, swam through my frail body and the hollowness I have been feeling for a year suddenly vanished, disappeared as if it was never there. Every doubt in my mind of this being a twisted joke was washed away by his touch, the calming feeling of flesh against flesh, warm.

"Sydney," he drew out my name as if cherishing the sound of it as he spoke, wanting to say it over and over without stopping. Lifting his other hand, he brushed away the tears on my puzzled face. "I'm sorry." His forehead wrinkled as he apologized for I don't know what. Millions of words and thoughts and questions came rushing up through my veins to my tongue but they all balanced on the edge waiting for something to push them off the bridge and into the gap between us. Instead of letting them fall out, I tightened my grip and smiled back letting him know I am just glad he is here now. No questions needed. Just the sound of him breathing softly was all I needed and is all I'll ever need. After several minutes of hushed tears and continuous eye contact, he spoke. His voice music to my ears tenderly soothed every aching bone and pain in my body, even my heart. I never realized how much I did miss him, more than I ever thought until I heard him and saw him.

"Sydney, how are you feeling?" He started again noticing my silent nod after his apology and scooted his chair closer to me, a slight touch of concern and suffering in his voice. The past year gone, completely oblivious to us. It was like we had just gotten back from the mission and he never died. He never left, he never left, it was all a never-ending nightmare. I had finally woken up. 

"I guess fine for being asleep for six days, just a little sore." I laughed a tiny laugh and saw him smile, not just a small forced smile but a real smile full of love and adoration. My smile grew wider at seeing him smile like that, a picture I had lost in  and thought I would never find again. I longed to just pull him in my arms but the tangled strands of tubes and the shocks of pain running through my wounds prevented me from it. Always something in the way. "How am I doing honestly? Am I going to be alright?" Suddenly noticing the pain etched in his smile and his tone, I asked him knowing that I would get the truth, hopefully.

"Um,.. You're going to be fine, don't worry about. You're going to out of here in no time. Promise." He smiled and the tears in my eyes distorted the distress in his voice. I didn't question him.

 "I missed you." His forehead began to wrinkle again in being aware of how he affected me and knowing what I might ask next, afraid. After stumbling over the first syllables several times, getting caught in their inevitable conversation to follow, it finally came out. "Why? Why did you leave me? Please tell me." Deep down I know why he left, because Sloane knew. Because he had to, because he wanted to protect me. I just had to hear it from him and to make sure it was true.

            Rubbing his thumb over the top of my pale hand, almost translucent in the light, careful of not hitting my IV, he tried to stir up the right words, knowing no words were right for what he had to confess and bring up. I wish I never asked, wish that I could turn back the hourglass just seconds and then ignore the whole question. In fact, turn the glass back a year and never go on that dreadful mission and never have to be separated. But it was too late, too late to fix what was wrong. Took too long for me to find the truth as usual, too long for me to find out Sloane knew. Too late and too long.

As he opened his perfectly curved lips to speak, more tears began to spill out of my weak eyes sensing the pain. I bit my bottom lip hard trying to hold them back, but they were too powerful this time, a waterfall cascading down its mountain. I could sense the hesitation in his voice which was all of a sudden gruff and verging on breaking down.

"Syd, I'm sorry, I had to when Sloane left me, and they, the CIA got your call and got me out. They couldn't tell you. You would have been killed because of it. I wouldn't allow it. Please Sydney, please forgive me for not telling you. I wanted to. 

I wish I could have told you. You were just getting to bring them down and I couldn't let them kill you. And if that meant that I was hiding in the shadows watching you, I didn't care. I'm sorry that I wasn't thinking if I would hurt you like that. Like I did. I'm soo sorry Sydney."

He was crying now, in thick shattering sobs that broke away at my heart. I couldn't bear to watch anymore and closed my eyes, still gripping tightly onto his hand feeling his warmth next to me. His green eyes misty in the dewiness of his tears, still gleaming their beautiful painting. He paused for a second to catch his unsteady breath and I thought he stopped causing a sigh of relief. He didn't but I couldn't find the words or strength to stop him, I closed my eyes not wanting to see the agony hidden deep inside him all the way down to his ankles. "All those times in the cemetery when I saw you, it ripped my heart out. I wanted to tell you. I did, I honestly did, but I couldn't because then you would be killed and then we would be no where. And I was soo close once when you followed me, I wanted to tell you, to let you catch me. But I knew if you knew you would be killed. I'm sorry Sydney that I did this to you. Please forgive me I'm soo .." I couldn't take it any longer.

"Vaughn, stop. Please stop. I don't blame you. Just don't say you're sorry, because you did nothing wrong. You're alive. Just stop. Please, you don't have to be sorry." My breath slightly beginning to decrease making harder for me to even keep my hand clasped into his. I opened my eyes and my voice somehow became strong and without faltering, the sight of him gave me all the strength I'll ever need. "Please Vaughn." His eyes gazing into mine and I felt everything that you could possibly ever feel pour into me, gushing in through all sides, trapping me in with his love. I squeezed my weak hand into his strong one once more and let my heavy eyes fall back.

"Sydney," He waited for me to open my eyes again and I did, without even thinking of the needles ramming through every inch of my body. "I love you." Breathing in deep, my chest swelled as I pushed back my more tears, this time from the insurmountable joy that numbed the pain and allowed me to smile. Upon breathing out, the pain seeped its way back in. I ignored it.

"I love you too." All the grief and regret imbedded into his face was wiped away with a genuine smile, the truth. He kissed my hand, still avoiding the IV tube that snaked over my limbs fighting for me to live, and a tingling swept over my thin frame like the fall and rise of summer night's tide, gently and smooth, calming and beautiful, a miracle with the glowing sun sparkling in the distance radiating over the mystery of the sea. 

"You better get some rest. I heard the nurse calling your dad, he'll be here shortly." He stroked my hand once more, salty winds breezing past the sandy shores beckoning you to stay. And then picked it up when my brown eyes that had new life in them drifted off to sleep and began to slowly get up from the indented chair.

"Michael?" I heard his soft steps abruptly stop at the sound of my hoarse voice calling him in his real name. I heard him gulp in his tears and turn around, feeling the burning in his eyes. "Stay, please. Don't leave me again."

            His feet resumed their careful pace but returned to my side with pleasure. I could hear the silent squeak of the chair as he eased back into it, still indented. I could smell his unique and tantalizing smell re-enter my senses reassuring me I wasn't sleeping yet and that this wasn't a dream that I created in my fragile mind. I felt his hand take its place in my hand once again bringing back warmth and filling up the massive hole in my heart in mere seconds. Palm against palm, skin against skin, soul against soul.

 A content smile spread its way across my lips as I fell into a relaxing sleep with no nightmares and no guilt hanging over top of my head flashing in the darkness. Just the whimsical sound of waves crashing peacefully in the distance, splashing and dancing against the evening sun, a pink speckled with golds, blues, and purples, extending its rays and embracing me in its safety beckoning me to stay. To stay with him forever.

*No surprise or shocker with the mystery man! Sorry, couldn't do it, I am after all an avid S/V shipper, I had to go with some wishing and hoping for our favorite couple! Another chapter, hopefully more reviews! (hint!hint! lol) Did you like it? Yes? Or No? Please let me know what you think and if you think she is really okay or not? As always thanks for reading!


	10. Succeeding

*Still in shock from Sunday's episode, so it took even longer to get my mind back on this story because its behind(sort of , SD-6 is gone in it though!) and my life has been very hectic. Sorry for the long update! Thanks for all your reviews, they mean a lot.

Little side note: twinmuse and any others who were wondering about solitary secret, I am putting that off till this is finished but I already know where I am going with it, soo just a bit longer, sorry! I am taking off on a theory I think might be true, so watch for that one! And I am also going to resume perfect at that time as well, because writing a happy fluff while writing this, I couldn't do it. But you can still read those if you haven't, and review(of course!)

And now the next chapter!!

Chapter 10-Succeeding

            Walking down the deserted path of the park, the trees swaying slightly to the tune of the night wind, my heels echoed in response. After every step, I could feel someone's presence lurking behind the bushes scattered across the open spaces of grass. Holding onto my cell phone and poising my finger on his speed dial number, I felt safer. Even being the spy that I am, I get scared only for him. I don't want to put him through what I went through. He doesn't deserve that. Doesn't deserve the long endless nights of sleeping pools of tears, doesn't deserve the heavy feeling of nothing weighing down his shoulders, and doesn't deserve the pain that slowly eats away at your heart until it is no more. He doesn't deserve that.

            Carefully crossing the intersection devoid of any cars and out of the park, I see the building that looms overtop of the perfect scenery of the park that goes by unnoticed to dog walkers and babysitters taking tiny tots for fresh air. The light posts illuminate the brisk night as I dial a number into the broken down phone and enter through the side doors, not noticing the hairs on my arms standing up straight and an uneasy feeling crawling around in my stomach.

            As soon as I turned the last bare corner of dimly lit hallways and found myself staring down the corridor that leaked into a main room filled with computers and papers strewn about on various desks, the strange feeling in my stomach told me something was wrong. But everything seemed normal. Everything looked normal, except the far desk. In the back corner past the numerous hallways extending to other offices and cells, one in particular my mother's, a plain empty desk seems sectioned off almost. As if no one wants to be tainted by the pain and suffering behind it.

            The far desk usually littered by various reports written hastily in his illegible handwriting, my files containing every detail of every one of missions, and his mugs always half full of cold and deserted coffee was empty. Nothing graced the top of the smooth wood except his computer and even the computer seemed stripped of any existence. A fine film of dust covered everything which was nothing and could have told you without even whispering the truth that no one especially not him had touched this desk for months, maybe years. But it was months soon to be a year which felt like years, long agonizing years.

            Dropping the phone that was still tightly clutched in my hand with my one finger slightly poised over his speed dial number, my memory kicked in. Nothing had happened. I didn't die, but he didn't live. I didn't die, but he didn't. He didn't. Even though I felt the glossy phone slip from my shaking fingers, the loud sound that it made from smacking the harsh tile floor caused me to jump and stare down at it as it spun on its side. Round and round and round, slower and slower and slower until it stopped and a long overdue tear fell on it with a drawn out splash.

            Many agents dressed in black suits that made them look even more depressed and somber than they really are look up from their duties and stare at me blankly switching my glances between the still phone and the empty desk. He was alive, he was in my room, he was holding my hand. I felt him, heard him, and I saw him. Alive, not dead. My head began to shake on its own and my legs began to walk carelessly over to his desk. Few people approached me, sensing the void digging itself back its home sweet home in my heart, I didn't notice them. Didn't hear them, didn't want to, didn't care to, I just wanted to sit in his chair, feel my limbs brush over the rough fabric of the chair that he sat on. The phone was still on the floor, abandoned with the tear running down the side and onto the cold tile floor shining in the light.

            Slowly pulling out the chair hearing it creak loudly and noticing the numerous pairs of misty eyes watching my every move, my eyes begin to fill with more tears ready to spill over. Sitting back into it, letting it embrace me, letting it take me over, I close my eyes and cry. Silently whimpering, the hole in my heart has grown down to my ankles and up to the tip of my head. My body goes numb and I feel nothing, no pain, no anger, no sorrow, no hurt, no confusion, no tears gracefully skating over my face and onto his desk, no nothing. Just like him. I feel nothing. I am finally dead, invisible. I don't hear anyone, I don't see anyone. I am alone and no one can see me cry, no can hear my screams, no can feel the pain of my heart beating over and over again.

            My eyes flick back open and I'm not in his chair. My hands aren't gripping the sides of his chair but instead gripping onto the white sheets, my knuckles matching them. My face is tight where the new tears haven't washed away the old ones. It was just a dream, a nightmare. The warmth from his body still evident and circulating throughout me, he is alive.  

After moments of making sure last night's or however long ago it was, was real and not a dream, then I notice something terribly wrong more wrong than the nightmare. The warmth was still running throughout my entire body, calming me, but my hand was empty. Searching his chair for him, I found no one. Not even an indent where he had been sitting alive with his heart beating. He was here. He was. I know it. Lost tears found their home spilling out onto my face, streaming down to my chin then falling down to the tightly pulled up blanket.

            Forcing my body to sit up, I managed to slightly peek around the room for any signs that he was here. Nothing. No blankets, no newspapers, no cell phones, no CIA report papers lying aimlessly about the room, no him. No nothing except pill bottles, IV stands, and machines continuing in a steady hum. Just me. 

            Then I noticed the door. It was half-open and the bright light from the hallway was spilling in sending a wave of color into the room. Shadows were plastered against the door and that's when I heard them. Talking in cautious voices terrified and alarmed. Straining my ears for any notification of who it is or what they were saying, none. At first the voices seem completely foreign then almost like magic I breathe in the truth. 

He is still alive, his sweet voice circling around me, embracing me. Before calling out his name to see his face peer into my disconnected room just to make sure, I hear a full sentence, a startling sentence of truth. Low, gruff and hoarse, strained and almost monotone as if not wanting to say it, he asks what has probably been on his mind since six days ago.

"Is she going to be okay?" Suddenly my ears seem to pick up every single sound outside the door, everything.

"Well, to be honest, we are not sure. I know she looks fine on the outside besides the bruises and cuts along her arms and legs, but the major damage was done internally." I could hear his heart break as did mine. A stranded tear began to balance on the tip of right eyelash, wavering between the truth and what I wanted to hear. It was silence for what seemed like years then Vaughn's voice broke through, cracking in places and deep breaths in between each word.

"H..how much damage and to what?" Closing my eyes, really feeling the pain surging through my body, I tried to tone out what was going to be said next, whether it was good or bad. I tried to breathe harder and think of last night when he was right next to me and not outside the door learning the truth. All the sound I began to make inside my head and my breathing had not silenced what was being said. It only made it more evident.

"Her liver. We already went in and operated, we just have to wait now. She should be fine, but.." His voice began to fade as the tears around my brown eyes increased.

"But what?" I could hear the bit and fear in his voice. I pulled up the tight sheets around my body closer and the smell of starch and fresh breezes came into my senses. Closing my eyes, I didn't want to hear this. I want them to stop talking, and I want Michael to come back into the room not knowing anything and take my hand and feel his heat and love next to me, keeping me safe. The world around me becoming fuzzy and distant, I had succeeded this time. The only sound in my ears is the soft buzz of the machines connected to me, keeping me alive, and the quiet scuffs of his shoes running over the patterned tiles of the hallway letting out all of his pain and frustration. He knew and I knew.

            His steps became louder and I soon felt his presence leaning over me. A sudden swell of warmth and strength surged throughout my broken body. A cold tear found its way out of his brilliant green eyes and filtered down on my arm as he grabbed my hand and held it with such fierceness. Our hands intertwining, both full of life and love, except that this time he knew. He knew what I had done to myself. He knew I had succeeded.

*so, what did you think? Good? Bad? And do you think she is going to live? Yes? No? Thanks for reading and now you know what to do, press the little button and type away! lol, thanks!


	11. Secret Game

*Thanks for all the great reviews they really get me writing faster(I think this is the fastest update I have ever done!) Now on to the next chapter and please keep the reviews coming, I love them!

*NOTE: This is in Vaughn's point of view(pulling a switch!)

Chapter 11- Secret Game

Today will be a good day, just keep telling yourself that. Today will be a good day. Pulling off the bunched up sheets full of static cling, I force my frozen feet to plant themselves firmly on the floor. The fresh air stings at my ankles that try to convince me to stay in bed for the rest of the day and think of nothing and do nothing. But I resist the temptation and drag the rest of my body up and out of the room, leaving the woman sleeping soundly in the bed. The mattress sinking downwards under her weight while her brown hair cascades down all sides of her pillow and onto my mine. 

A stream of light floods over the room and lands on the hardwood floor lightly stirring up the dust that settled over night. Adjusting my eyes still thick with sleep and regret, I fumble my way out into the main hallway. Through the front windows light pours in and visible through the transparent curtains billowing from the wind, the sunrise is breathtaking filtering out over the grass which is fresh with crisp dew. Today is going to be a good day. Today is going to be a good day, has to be. 

She would love to see this. She has always loved seeing anything that held true beauty in it. I remember after a mission we had been able to fly together on a CIA plane back home. We had spent the night talking about everything except the mission and the details I was suppose to attain. Just before arriving home in the early hours of the morning, she slid open the plastic window cover and I could have sworn that she had never smiled with such ease. 

Seeing her face glow with joy upon watching the sun rise so close to her, at arm's reach made her smile contagious. The golden rays hinted with touches of purple and pink illuminating her features that made me wish we never left the plane and kept circling the world with the same light casting upon us. I remember the exact way she smiled and pushed her silky hair back behind her ear and made me lean over her and look out into the picture painted before us, just for us.

The breath inside me was knocked out and I couldn't move back to my proper position but she thought it was the sunrise. But she didn't understand then that she would always be more breathtaking than a sunrise no matter how gorgeous that was. She would always be the only thing that ever truly contained true beauty to me. 

A small cough coming from the back of the house made me desert the fond memory and a smile crept its way up onto my face. Today was going to be a good day. It had to be, just had to be. Stretching my arms up over my head, I erased the distant memory and headed back down the hallway adorned with pictures and memories of the past couple years that somehow seemed to rid my face of any happiness.

Reaching the far bedroom and turning the brass knob, the smile returned as I saw the new sign she had posted after I had gone to sleep immediately after coming home from two full days of work at the offices. Ever since I have been working longer hours that cause pain on everyone I know except me, she has written me secret messages after I get home. She knows I will wake up before everyone else in the house and knows I will see it and no one else will. Our little secret. Most of the time telling me something she did that day that would make me proud or what her favorite color was, but today was different. Painted in big loopy letters that reminded me of someone else I knew, she wrote the words I loved to hear every single day of my life. The only words that I live for, "Daddy, I love you."

I stand there for seconds and really take in the words, the smile on my face growing with every glance at the secret message. Finally drawing myself away form the bright pink letters, I open the door cautiously trying to avoid it from creaking and waking her up. Doesn't work and the door creaks and breaks through the comforting silence of sweet dreams. Underneath the flowered covers, she stirs and her short brown hair shakes as her eyes flutter open.

I remain there in the doorway watching her until she motions her one tiny arm for me to come over to her. Everything about her reminds of someone else even if there is no relation, she is there. Mostly because of her name but mostly because I want her to be and brought her up to be.

"Sleep well?" Feeling the soft pink carpet glide under my bare feet, she nods her head and her hair shakes again against her pillows. I walk further into the room until I am standing next to her bed which is covered in numerous sheets and blankets all pink and all with flowers.

"Did you get my message?" She asks in a hushed voice that almost makes me want to laugh from the deepest part of my heart, but I don't. I only let out a small yes and a huge grin. Her green eyes sparkle feeling the excitement of being secretive and being like me. Ever since she found out I used to be a field agent last year when she was eight, espionage was her number one future job. She was not her mother's daughter at all. She was mine and I loved her for that.

"Yes I did and thank you. I love you too." I bent down and sat on the bed next to her curled up body. She rolled in next to me, not by choice but by the bed caving inward. She laughed at this and the large hole that always was evident in my heart was full once more.

"Are you going to work today?" Her eyes lost their sparkle and held a seriousness that I hated to see, that always killed me just alittle bit more. The sun noticed this and slowly crept away from her window leaving us in shadows.

"I don't know yet. They haven't called me in but I think they might need me today." She rolled back on her other side away from me and pulled all of the covers over head. I could see her tiny frame begin to breathe deeply in and out, up and down, in and out. 

"Now, sweetie, I have to go work. I know you want me to stay here with you and I would love to but I can't. I'm sorry."

            She didn't say anything but instead she scooted up farther away from me and deeper into her mountain of blankets blocking me off, a wall. The plug that had stopped the hole from growing was released and the hurt poured back in. She always knew how to get to me, she was only nine yet she knew. She knew I loved her and she knew I hated it when she became distant from me. 

"Come on, Sydney you can't be mad at me for that. Now if I forgot your birthday which is in four days to be exact then you can obtain the rights to being mad. Sydney?" Every time her name rolled so easily off my tongue, I thought of someone else. Of someone I wish she could have known, of some one I want her to be like, and of someone I loved more than anybody else in the world except her. Shaking her thin body, she laughs and I can tell she was faking it all along.

"What did you get me?" She pops out of her self-dug cave and inches closer to me fully aware I will never tell her but again the excitement gets to her that I have secrets that she wants to know. "Please tell me, please." She puts her head on my shoulder and gives me her pouty eyes but even then her eyes are sparkling.

"Nope, I'm not telling this year. You can't get me with those eyes, they got me at Christmas. They are not getting me again. You might as well go back and hide in your cave because I'm not spilling anything."

"Please?" I can tell she knows she is going to win and in most cases she does, but this time she is not going to.

"No, not telling until you find out for yourself." She jumps off of the bed causing me to spring up and down with bed as she stands before me the same height with me sitting. She runs over to her oak desk in the corner and rummages through the countless drawers filled with art supplies and coloring books of every animal known to man. She comes back with a mischievous grin and a pencil and paper behind her back.

"Well, if you can't tell me, can you write it? I wouldn't hear you and wouldn't tell, because you would write. That is completely different." She slides the paper and pencil with a Mickey Mouse eraser on the top into my hands and stands in front of me with her hands on her hips staring at me, waiting. I take the pencil in between my fingers twiddling it around and around knowing that she was waiting impatiently for me to write down what was hidden somewhere in the house waiting for her to open.

"How about a secret game?" As soon as the words came out of my mouth, she came in closer to me and looked at me with such concentration ready to absorb our next little secret. I took it as a yes. "I am going to take this piece of paper with me and through out the day, I am going to hide little hints and clues as to what it is? Sound simple?"

            She nodded her little head and her messy hair fell over her eyes. She brushed it back behind her ears and it was a bad day all of a sudden. She didn't notice the pain on my face or in my heart. She didn't even know the cause. I kissed her on the head and said I'll be in the kitchen and left the room. 

            As I was walking down the hallway, I heard her little hands scrape our secret message off the door so no one would know before shutting it close again. Today will be a good day. Keep telling yourself this, today will be a good day. Passing my room, Jenny still sleeping peacefully in our bed tangled in the sheets, I feel a stab of guilt. She doesn't even know why I am never home most of the time. She doesn't know why I cry sometimes in the bathroom all alone after coming home from work late at night. She doesn't even know why I named our daughter Sydney with such persistence and sincerity. She doesn't even know where I go before and after work. 

            Finding my way to the kitchen where I intended to go in the first place, I lay the paper and pencil on the counter and open up a cupboard but don't know why. The rough edges of the wood scratch against my palms as I run my hands over it deciding what I am doing. I am not hungry and I am not thirsty. I stand there for minutes staring into the three shelves full of mugs, bowls, and plates.           

But I don't see the plates, I don't see the mugs, and I don't see the bowls. All I see is her. All I ever see is her. How she was when she was alive with her glowing eyes and sweet smiles. How she was the last time I saw her with her still glowing eyes and sweet smile but forced. She had tried to keep back the tears, but it was too painful for her. Too painful for me as well. She had tried so hard to stay; I could see it in her eyes. The truth, but that wasn't enough. Wasn't enough for her, she had given up too long ago before she knew I was alive.

"Michael, how much longer do I have?" She looked at me with such strong conviction and knowledge. I knew she knew, but she wanted to hear it, to hear it from me. She took no time in wasting time for she knew she had none to waste. Holding back the tears, I tried to change the subject but failed miserably.

"Um, Jack is coming in later today. He missed you last time because you went back to sleep. But he said that was okay because he said you needed it." I looked down at our hands, still interweaved and still sending our heat through each other.

"Michael," she said my name in a tone that scared me. She was even strong in spirit when her body was as frail as a porcelain doll. One wrong move and she could break, shatter into a million pieces that could never be fit back together. "How much longer?"

"Th..um. they don't know for sure, but they are going to keep you here for another couple of days and try to do everything they can." At this she sighed heavily, her chest rising and falling and her face squeezing together from the pain that surged through her. I re-gripped her hand in mine taking the pain away from her as best as I could. Lifting my other hand up to her cheek, I brushed away the small wet tears that began to effortlessly fall down her face and stroked back her hair that seemed permanently plastered to her face in sweat.

"I'm..I am soo sorry. Michael, please forgive me. I am..I'm" Her eyes pleaded something that I knew she felt deep down in her heart and she had to have known she had nothing to be sorry about.

"Shhh, stop this. Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Shhhh, calm down, you're fine. You are going to make it and I know in a week you'll be back at the office ready to go retrieve some ancient artifact by Rambaldi." Through her tears and suffering, she smiled and would have laughed if it hadn't hurt her so much to smile.

"Honey are you okay?" Spinning around and slamming the cupboard door shut, I see Jenny standing in front of me with her robe wrapped around her and her long brown hair that reminded me of someone else's tied up in a messy knot. She was beautiful but no Sydney. No one would ever be as breathtaking as Sydney, no one.

"What?" I try to recover but notice that my eyes have begun to swell with tears balancing on end. She saw them and shook her head. Recently she had noticed something wrong with me, but couldn't quite guess it. Earlier that year she had questioned me if I was having an affair, but if having an affair with a distant memory that hangs over your head like a sweet dream, I was guilty. But it didn't and I was innocent. She stopped her questioning and life went back to normal even though my normal is not normal.

"Are you sure you are okay?" She stepped into the kitchen, her slippers making a slapping sound against the linoleum.

"Yes, everything is fine. Today is a good day." I forced a smile at her and since she didn't really ever know me, she didn't think twice about what I was hiding. But the little girl, who was sitting silently beneath the oak table positioned just around the corner from us, watched taking everything in, knew it all. She knew me and knew that today was not a good day.

*I know many of you(well all of you!)wanted her to live, but I had this planned since the beginning! So tell me if you liked it or not! Please, tell me what you thought of it and there is about one or two more chapters left! The more reviews, the faster it comes out, and maybe your wishes will be fulfilled(maybe!)thanks for reading!


	12. Interruptions

*I know many were disappointed last update and I hope it didn't detour you away from the story and like I said it will all work out, so please stay with me on this!!! Thanks to the ones who reviewed, I love getting the reviews they help me write faster and if I get more of them the next chapter will come out faster and it should surprise many of you! So here is the next chapter, sorry for the long wait! And sorry for how short it is, I had to cut it off here because next chapter will be longer and hopefully doesn't take as long to get out!

Chapter 12-Interruptions

Staring at the small tiles of the kitchen floor, trying to avoid Jenny's blue eyes, ice-cold without any warmth, watching me struggling to find out what was wrong with me, I fumbled for something to say. For something to break the deafening sound of silence that beats down on you with all of its force until it breaks you. I can feel its weight on my shoulders and its thickness encircling us in the room, trapping us. Finally the bittersweet sound of nothing forces words and sentences out of you that no one understands except you. I change the subject.

"So, what time do you have to go work today?" I reopen the cabinet feeling the sharp smoothness of the corner of the wood against my fingers and try to think of what to do next.

"Today is Saturday; I don't go to work on Saturdays." She said it with such vigor and punch that I almost closed the cabinet again with a slicing bang, but stopped myself in time.

"Sorry, I forgot." Shaking my head, I shook out the distinct vision of her and putting back my now cloudy normal life in my sight and decided on reaching for a grey bowl, but my fingers never grasped the bowl.

"Michael, what is wrong? And don't say I'm fine because you aren't. I don't know what is wrong, but please tell me. You have been forgetting many things and not just when I work. Please just tell me, whatever it is, just tell me."

"There is a new case at work that is very stressful right now. Everyone is on it, but it is going nowhere." Keeping my back to her, afraid she would see through my all-to-familiar lie. But I didn't have to see her to know she didn't believe me, I didn't have to hear her speak to know she didn't believe me, I just knew. 

"Okay…okay, so what now?" Turning around, tears circled her ice blue eyes and her knuckles were white clenched tightly into tight fists. 

"What are you talking about? What now?" My voice rose to a level which it often does and I walked towards her and lowering my voice not wanting Sydney to overhear, my feet pounding on the tile stinging me with coldness. 

"What are you going to do now? You obviously have your mind somewhere else, and honestly I don't want to be a second option. I know your work is important to you and if it is work, then fine, I can deal with that. But I don't think it is work. I don't think it ever was work." She reached out one of her shaking hands and steadied herself on the bare wall. A sudden pang of guilt swarmed my heart and all I wanted to do was tell her I was sorry. 

Even though I didn't love her like I should, I still care for her. I love her, but not like I did someone else. Someone who left me as quick as the wind brushes past your hair putting it out of place and then returns it back to where it started out but the feeling of it still hangs onto you. But I know that sorry isn't enough, I have used sorry to many times and its worn down like the bottom of a child's shoe. I have to give her a solid reason, which I don't have which I never will have. I have to tell her the truth, no matter how hard the truth is going to hurt her. No matter how bad it will slice through her heart and slice through this house. Opening my mouth, ready to speak the truth, the phone rang through the silence that hovered over top of us.

The phone stopped my words, stopped my anger, stopped her tears, and stopped my feet, stopped everything. We both looked at it like we had no idea what it was, almost as if it were a bomb ticking to go off. After three long rings, she stretched one trembling hand to the phone and pressed the talk button and brought it up to her ear while brushing away the few strands of brown hair that fell from her messy bun.

"Hello?" Her voice was unstable and quavering from what we were in the middle of before the caller interrupted so conveniently. She let the person who I wanted to thank talk and then just sighed and let more tears run down her face falling onto down to the floor after gliding along her slippers.

"It's for you. Devlin." I walked over to her and took the phone from her, our fingers barely touching and I my eyes fell upon her blue ones once again. I mouthed the words sorry even though I knew it does no good.

"Hello." Walking back over to the counter next to the open cabinet, I watched her hardly paying any attention to Devlin who was telling me that I needed to come in immediately because of some new developments in another Rambaldi case and that I needed to know who gave the information.

 Jenny just watched me while wiping away her tears carefully and slowing trying to not let me notice. I noticed and so did the little girl still sitting quietly in the shadows which neither of us knew was watching us through wide eyes. Hanging up the phone and hurriedly getting dressed, I didn't speak nor look at Jenny and neither did she to me. Silence once again moved into to a so called happy family and I left without a goodbye to anyone. Without meaning to or noticing, I slammed the door shut behind me. A stark sound emitted and left a distinct barricade between us. I got in my car and drove away to the CIA building with nothing on mind except why did I have to think about her all the time.

Driving past stores and cafes, I didn't pay attention to anything that seemed real. Nothing seems real anymore and I have come to accept it and am beginning to like it. Usually what takes and feels like forever, takes only seconds. Feeling the smooth leather of the steering wheel under my fingers, I pull my car into the parking lot and realize that there is a car next to my spot that is normally not there. Grabbing my briefcase out of the back seat, I think nothing of the new car and try to throw out this morning's conversation or rather argument with Jenny out of my mind.

*Please review and thanks for reading! And please stay with this story, promise you wont regret it!!


	13. Author's Note

Remember me?! After a LONG break from ffnet, I have returned. I have been extremely busy and have not had sufficient time to make it to the computer and continue my stories. Yes I have been writing and plan on continuing to finish my stories. If you do not remember me, or have never read one of my stories, please take this opportunity to become acquainted with my fics. First I will give some to either refresh their memory on this story (since I will pick this one back up first) and in a couple days I will post the next chapter! Sorry for the long (okay extremely long wait) but I did not have any time and life took me by storm. Thanks for reading and hope to see you soon!

~Lynn


	14. Apparitions from the Past

I'm back! Sorry for entirely toooo long wait for this chapter! Don't worry, I have more time that I will be able to update. Enjoy and please be kind, Review! Remember the more reviews I receive, the faster I will submit the next chapter.  
  
Apparitions from the Past  
  
After work, exhausted and weary, I come home to find that Jenny left to go to the gym and left me supper in the fridge, which is not that uncommon anymore. Leaving my briefcase by the door with a thump, I trudge over to the fridge about to dive into my cold dinner when I hear a little squeak coming from the back of the house. "Daddy?! Is that you?" Her small voice echoes throughout the bare walls of the house and greets me with a welcoming smile. "Yes. How are you my princess?" I turn around forgetting about the unwanted dinner in the fridge and see Sydney struggling to get up on the revolving bar stool. After several attempts of offering my assistance (all of which she declines immediately), she sits comfortably on the high stool and stares at me through her wide eyes. "Good. Bored from all of my homework." She gives me a tiny smirk and starts to swing the chair back and forth as if she were on an amusement park ride.  
  
"That, I can tell." I act as if I have no clue as to what she is getting at but then give in to her spontaneous giggles. "Let me guess what you are thinking?" She furiously nods her head and waits impatiently for my guess. Instantly I know what she is thinking, everyday she comes racing to me with this simple plea. "Hmmm let me see..would it by any chance be a quick trip to the park?" "You got it!" She squeals and almost falls off the stool." "Go get your tennis shoes and then we will leave." She scatters off without protest. Usually, she ends up begging for me to take her to the park. But after a day like today, fresh air and just plain fun sounds exactly what I need. In record speed she comes flying past me and runs out the door. "Come on Dad, hurry up!" Quickly discarding my suit jacket due to the fact that the mid-day heat in LA is at its high today, I high tail it so that I catch up with her two houses down. Our house is only two blocks away from the nearest park. On days like today, its pastures are filled with hyper children with their best friends playing tag, Frisbee, or just running in circles to get rid of all their excess energy. It is the same park that is roughly a mile away from headquarters where I would sometimes find a past love of mine jogging. Every time I take my daughter there, as I sit at the nearest bench watching her swing higher and higher into the trees, I find myself searching the track for the bounce of her ponytail or the sound of her sneakers hitting the pavement over and over in a steady perfected rhythm. The sun weaves in and out of the brightly colored inner tubes and slides making an intricate pattern on the grass. I find myself in a slight trance almost forcing myself to think of anything but the sound of her steady breaths around the track. But no matter how hard I try to stare intently at the ground, she appears before me. Her hair is longer but has more life and volume than ever as it swings from side to side with her every move. She is chasing a small boy back up the large red slide. She giggles carelessly as she trips and not so gracefully falls down and around to the ground landing in a heap. She sits there staring up at the boy whose curly golden tresses dangle in front of his eyes. She glares up at him as if daring him to trip more absurdly than she did. I call out to her and she quickly turns her head and it's like she never left. She slowly picks herself up while brushing off the dirt on her clothes and allows her perfect dimples show through her smile. I want to say something, anything that will make her stay her with me. But I can't speak let alone breathe. All of a sudden the apparition of Sydney Bristow disappears in a blur of sunlight as a child races through her without even noticing it. I feel a light tap on the back of my shoulder. "Dad? Why do you look like you are about to cry?" Sydney, my daughter, gradually strolls around the bench to face me and her face holds such worry that I don't even know what to tell her. I am tired of lying to her all the time because I know she is smart enough now to know when the truth is being told and when it is not. Yet, I know I can not tell her what is really bothering me. "Oh, Dad is just having some problems right now. Don't worry, everything will be alright. You go on and play now." I place my hand on top of her head and spin her around and around then send her off towards the swing set before she has time to reply. As she breaks into a run with occasional skips here and there, I decide to steer my wandering thoughts on people- watching. I bypass the many mothers trying, and failing, at attempting to calm down their toddlers who do not want to leave or dropped their ice cream cone in the sand pit once again. I get too exhausted watching them and also become annoyed with the endless droning of incessant whining. I also bypass the joggers for obvious reasons. Scanning the park for any one looking suspicious, the spy in me coming out, or anyone who looks like they have a plateful on their mind, I gaze at all the cars passing in a blur. I wonder if Sydney passed by here before she decided to end her life. Just then a taxi cab pulls up to the side of the road nearest the swings. The back door swings opens and a woman extends a very long leg and gracefully strides out of the cab. Her back is still facing me but I have some sense that I know her. After paying the driver, she turns around but is now too far away for me to make any distinction of who it might be. She comes a little closer but she is hidden in the shade of the large oak trees scattered throughout the park. Her eyes drenched with sorrow and longing, wander over the bustling crowd of screaming children, searching for someone. I can't help thinking that I know those eyes. Her self assured strides leave me in a state of confusion and disbelief. It couldn't possibly be? Could it? I shake my head trying to get this hallucination out of my mind and head off to find my daughter. As I usher my pouting daughter out of the park, I look back to where the woman was, hoping for a better look or to even see if she was just another daydream. She is gone, lost amidst the sunlight and laughter. Just as I thought.  
  
*So.how did you like it?! I hope it was good..if you didn't like it please tell me, but be kind and constructive about it! If you did like it, then I want to hear about that even more so. So go hit that little button and review, thanks! 


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